


...ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

by aliciutza



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Drinking, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Incest, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, OR IS IT, OR IS IT NOW, Pining, R Plus L Equals J, Smoking is a big part of the aesthetic of this fic, Smut, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, at one commenter's suggestion i'm also tagging it as, but i guess smoking in our fics is a thing haha, even if it's unhealthy, jon is a bit of a fuckboi but he is our fuckiboi, past Jon/Ygritte mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciutza/pseuds/aliciutza
Summary: Dany is but a fresh university graduate herself when her estranged nephew contacts her. He was offered a job in Pentos, the city Dany has called “home” for the past ten years. Just because she doesn’t speak to the rest of her family, it doesn’t mean she has to turn Jon away, right?Jon crashes at her place for months, until he eventually moves out. But on a fateful night, something happens between them and it changes everything. Somehow, Jon doesn’t remember anything, which leaves Dany alone in her pining.
Relationships: Jon Snow & Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 125
Kudos: 351





	...ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atetheredmind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atetheredmind/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my dearest friend, Amy ! You’re one of the best people in the fandom and I am so happy to call you my friend <3 Because of the pandemic my plan to surprise you with cookies fell through. I guess next time hihi. 
> 
> I love you oh so very very much! Hope you like this, it was just one of those fic ideas I might have mentioned once and never spoke of it again hahaha because you know me and my messy ass. 
> 
> Unbetaed because I live life on the edge, plus you are my favourite beta :* 
> 
> Without further ado, here it is, my modern incest oop, for you..

It takes Dany a few minutes to realise that the buzzing sound is coming from real life rather than her dream. Dazed, she blindly reaches for her phone, catching it before it vibrates itself on the floor. The artificial blue light momentarily blinds her in the darkness of her room. Groaning, she slides the brightness indicator to its lower setting, when the phone buzzes one more time in her palm. She taps to open the message—messages, actually—four of them:

_I miss us going out, just the two of us_

Dany scrolls up to read the others: 

_Did you know there’s this new dive bar right around the corner?_

_I just had a few beers and all I can think is how much you’d love this place_

_Come on, Dany. Wake up :)_

She chews on her bottom lip as the phone lights up with yet another message, this time with the address of the pub. Dany turns on the lamp, not giving her brain a moment to properly wake up and stop her from going out to meet _him_. She types out a message. 

_Be there in 20 :)_

He replies immediately, and she begs her heart not to read too much into his eagerness. 

_Meet me in the back ;)_

She puts on the first clothes she finds in her room: black jeans, a crop top, black leather jacket, and a pair of trainers. Dany checks herself in the elevator mirror, on the short ride from the third floor, deciding to put her hair up in a messy high ponytail. Her palms are already sweaty by the time she steps out of the building.

Pentos is still booming with life at 1AM, large queues already formed in front of the numerous food trucks that line the long street, selling traditional bites to drunk people. Dany rushes, and if she had any self respect left she’d admit that it was because she misses him too. Before she can change her mind and turn back around, she lets herself be distracted by a group of very intoxicated girls hugging each other and admiring their clubbing outfits.

The dive bar appears in the distance, its neon sign flickering around the edges of the loopy letters. She chooses to ignore the irony of meeting in a place called _Heartbreaker_. As instructed, instead of using the front door, she goes around the back—Jon is already there, pacing, cigarette in between his fingers. She hates the way she feels her heart beat faster at the mere sight of him, almost as much as she hates the way her cheeks already hurt from the large grin she has plastered on her face. 

As if on cue, he spots her, and closes the distance between them before she has the chance: he greets her as he always does, with a peck to her right cheek and a one-armed hug. Months before, he’d cringe at the mere sight of greeting anyone like this, yet now he was acting as if he had been living here his entire life.

“You know, for a Northerner, you’re getting quite chummy,” she protests the gesture, but only jokingly. 

He chuckles, expelling the smoke away from her face, “I’ll blame it on the other half of my Essosi roots.”

“You know we could have had beers at my place,” she says, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“But I wanted to show you this bar. Plus, you don’t let me smoke inside.” 

“I don’t even allow _myself_ to smoke inside.” Dany reaches for his cigarette, but he fends her to take a drag of it himself. He doesn’t break eye contact as he does, then turns the filter to her lips. Dany leans forward, still looking into his eyes. She tells herself she’s imagining his gaze move and linger on her lips. This time she is the one to break eye contact, taking a step back and blowing a few smoke circles up into the night air. 

“I still can’t make those,” he says, taking the last drag out of the now lipstick stained cigarette bud.

She smirks at him because that’s what he always says each time they share a cigarette. 

“Come on, let’s get those beers, hm,” he puts out the cigarette on the side of the bin and pulls her by her hand inside. 

She isn’t surprised to see that Jon was right—she does like the bar. The walls are plastered with posters of her favourite musicians from all over Essos and Westeros, and a vintage jukebox is at the centre of the room, right across the bar. The artificial lights from the numerous signs hanging on the walls bathe the entire place in a reddish light that reminds her of the interior of a Red Temple. The inside smells of beer mingled with something fried that she cannot identify, meaning they serve an array of finger food. It’s perfect, truly. 

Jon turns to her, trying to gauge her reaction. After an approving nod, he pulls her into a more secluded wooden booth and leaves to get the drinks. He already knows the kind of drinks she likes in these places so there’s no need to ask her for her order. Even from across the bar, he keeps looking at her and she knows she should not like the way his stare is able to make her feel like she’s the centre of the universe. 

He’s back with two pints of the bar’s staple beer, and for a while they remain in silence—not really knowing what to ask first. 

“How’s Ygritte,” the words slip from her mouth before she has the time to catch herself.

Jon visibly deflates. “I think it’s safe to say this time it’s over for real.” Dany knows this was not the first time they were breaking up since Jon moved to Essos; still, they always got back together.

She reaches for his hand, squeezing it, “Jon, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine, not like you had anything to do with it,” he replies, although she swears his eyes say otherwise. “It was a long time coming, trust me,” he squeezes her hand back. 

“Still....” she wants to comfort him. As much as she did not like Ygritte, she knows it shouldn't matter. She might as well have voiced those thoughts out loud, for what he says next is not something she expected to hear.

“She accused me of cheating on her with you.”

The way he says it should not hurt as much. “That’s preposterous,” she forces what she hopes is an insulted remark. “I’m your—”

“—I know, that’s what I said. But she has all these ideas of how we’re actually in love.” His incredulous look hurts more than she wants to admit. 

A server comes by their table to light the candle that’s shoved halfway into an empty gin bottle. She forgot that she was holding his hand until his calloused fingertips gently brush her knuckles again. The shivers travel up her arm and it’s almost like he is caressing the skin right under her ear. 

“Hey,” he calls her. 

Dany looks at their joined hands, then back at him. “If you think it would help patch things back, I can always talk to her and tell her,” she gulps, “the truth.” 

“I don’t think I want that, if that’s ok.” 

It was the truth, wasn’t it? She hasn’t exactly been treating Jon like her nephew, but how could she? Not even when they were kids did she register what being his aunt actually meant. After all, they were almost the same age. With Rhaegar and Lyanna moving to White Harbour, she rarely visited them, her parents still unhappy with their son’s decision to divorce his first wife so he could marry his mistress. Dany can count on one hand the number of times she and Jon saw each other when she was still in Westeros. If anything, she always felt that they were more like strangers than family; so much so that now it feels _weird_ having to acknowledge their family bond. Especially since she didn’t part with her family on the best terms. But when Jon called her after his graduation to tell her that he was moving to Essos for a job, she felt bad refusing. After all, children should not be punished for their parents’ deeds; and on the limite occasions they did see each other, Jon was always nice to her. So, she let him crash at her place for a few months, just until he could find his feet in Pentos. 

“Now tell me about your day,” Jon pulls her out of her impromptu walk on memory lane. 

He listens to her ramble the way he must have done hundreds of times by now. By their second pint, his mood seems much better than when she arrived at the bar. Selfishly, she likes to think that it has to do with her, at least in part. 

When they leave the bar, she is hungry and definitely tipsy. Jon races her to their favourite drunk food spot, the one that’s right across her flat. He lets her win, like he always does. They each get a greasy wrap that’s overflowing with meat, fries, different sauces, pickles and veggies. They sit down on the stairs of her building and devour their food. Well, at least Jon is; she mostly keeps staring at him. She hasn’t seen him in almost a month. It was an unspoken rule: when his girlfriend was visiting, they would not see each other. Even the texts were scarce and at odd hours. Neither acknowledged it, but they both knew Ygritte had been the one to make Jon move out of her flat.

“What,” he self consciously asks mid bite. 

“Nothing, you just have some,” she points to the right corner of her mouth.

Jon slides his thumb against the corner of his mouth, completely missing the dab of garlic sauce. 

“On _your_ right,” she laughs. 

This time, his tongue slips out and licks off the sauce. She wishes she could have done that for him. If she had enough courage, she’d just come out with it and say it. In moments like this she likes to think that whatever that’s happening between them is just sexual tension, and maybe—just _maybe_ —if she found a way to satisfy it, then all she _thinks_ she’s feeling would just disappear. He looks at her so intently and for a moment Dany is afraid she might have said something out loud, for he leans in. She freezes, unsure how to react. He grins and takes a big bite out of the wrap she still has in her hand. Jon is proud of himself, laughing as he finishes chewing. 

It stings. “What are you, twelve,” she berates him. 

He keeps chuckling as he scoots closer to her and pulls her into his side, “According to some, yes.”

She looks up, the glow from the neon sign just behind him illuminates half of his face, accentuating his jawline. She offers him the rest of her wrap, which he gladly finishes up. She can’t seem to look away. And just like that she is taken back eight months before, to a club on the other side of the city, in the hallway leading to the restrooms, in which a very intoxicated Jon had her trapped in between his body and the wall. For moments that stretched forever he didn’t do much but stare at her in the artificial red glow of the fluorescent lights. She wanted so badly for him to kiss her then, that when his lips finally touched hers, she wondered whether she had been the one to wish it into existence. His kisses were fire and his hunger was real; she knew it was. They got interrupted by a piss drunk girl that almost puked on them. The next day, Jon didn’t remember anything. For months, Dany couldn't decide whether she wanted to forget it ever happened, or burn it into her soul in perpetuity. As Jon finishes eating, she thinks that it’s for the best anyway; not all paths should be taken, right? 

“I should go.”

“Mmm…you could crash at my place. Your old bed misses you,” she tells him, yawning. 

“I think I was hoping you’d say that,” he laughs and pulls her up. 

Yet once they get upstairs, sleep seems to evade both of them; he convinces her that they should first watch the new mini series on Netflix about the reign of Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives. 

Not even halfway through the first episode, and Jon jokes about it, “Listen, I can’t blame the guy. His sisters were hot, and sure why not have both, more power to him. Maybe some practices should have been kept in present times.”

Dany throws a pillow at him.

“I’m just saying!” Jon catches it before it hits his head. 

“Of course you are,” this time she kicks him. “And who from our _depraved_ family do you plan on banging, Jon,” the words slip out of her mouth before she realises. 

“Look who’s the kinky one now,” he says as he catches her foot and starts tickling her. 

A dumb incest joke should not make her hope that Jon could ever see her as anything else than his aunt. Yet it does. 

The next day, she wakes up on the couch, alone. From outside, she can hear someone calling her name. It takes her a while to realise what’s happening, as Jon had already been out of her flat for almost five months. She makes her way to the balcony. 

Below, Jon is waving at her a brown paper bag in his hand, “Morning, sleepy head.”

She shields her eyes from the intense morning sun. “What time is it anyway,” she croaks, her voice still raw with sleep. 

“You’re gonna have to speak up, Dany,” Jon screams from below. “Just open up the door for me.” He disappears inside the building. 

She unlocks the door, leaving it half open for Jon, while she goes to the bathroom. When she comes back to the kitchen, he’s already made coffee and put the lemon cakes he bought out on a plate. She stares at him some more as he takes a bite out of the pastry and then offers it to her. If they were not related, this would just be domestic bliss; it’s slowly killing her how this is also not the first time they’ve done this. This is what most weekend mornings looked like when Jon was living with her: two big mugs of black coffee and lemon cakes from the only bakery in Pentos—and maybe in Essos—that makes the Westerosi pastry. The day Jon discovered the bakery, he decided it would be their tradition, to honour the times in their childhood when Dany would bring him lemon cakes from King’s Landing. She wonders what it must look like from the outside—until she remembers that Ygritte definitely saw them like this on the two times she visited Jon, before she finally convinced him to move into his own flat, on the other side of the city. 

“I have to run in a bit,” Jon says, sipping his black coffee. 

“Okay.”

“Doing anything nice today,” he asks. 

Dany picks up the plate and her cup, motioning for him to follow her out on the balcony. She puts the plate and cup on the small iron table. “Just hanging out with the girls. Enjoying our day off. You?”

Jon leans against the rail, basking in the sunrays. He reminds her of a marble sculpture, with his perfectly chiselled features, his plump lips and the defined muscles peeking underneath his white top—that she might have gotten a good look at on a few occasions. 

“Just some errands. I might stay in tonight.” He grabs another cake and stuffs it in his mouth.

“You sure you’re good?”

“Promise,” he says, yet Dany can tell _something_ is off. But she also knows that Jon will tell her, in his own time. 

They finish their breakfast and Jon is off—not without yelling goodbye one more time when he is downstairs. She just shakes her head, knowing that he only does it to annoy her downstairs neighbour. 

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

Jon is avoiding her, Dany thinks to herself as she’s sitting on the floor of her balcony, her feet dangling between the bars of the iron railing. She is sure of it now that it’s been more than three weeks since they’ve been to the Heartbreaker. He’s replying to her texts, but only if she’s the one to message first. He hasn’t asked her to go out on the weekends, nor has he dropped by her place. She’s on her second glass of wine, trying to hype herself up to ask him to go out with her and her friends on the next weekend, when he messages her first. Her heart almost pounds out of her chest as she reads it over again and again: 

_Let’s go out tonight. I feel like I need to destress a bit_

What does he need destressing about, she wants to ask. Instead she types: 

_Gods yes! Work has been killing me_

The rest of the day flies by, anticipation building up with every hour. She dresses into a skimpy golden dress and high heeled sandals that she knows she can dance the night away in. There’s a heatwave currently crossing Pentos, so instead of letting her hair down, she puts it up in a ballerina bun. Lastly, she puts on a golden choker and a pair of statement earrings. She takes a taxi to the place, asking the driver to take the long route. The drive to the club helps her to calm down; she can’t seem to pinpoint why she feels so nervous to go back to this club. She likes to pretend it has nothing to do with the fact that the last time she was there, Jon kissed her. It feels ridiculous that a place can hold this much power over her feelings. Eventually, the car reaches its destination. With no other choice, Dany inhales and steps out of the car. 

The club is packed full of people, their bodies moving in tune with the music coming from the speakers. She spots Jon by one of the VIP zones, scanning the crowd. He finally sees her and waves. 

“Hey,” she says loudly, to his ear. 

Jon kisses her on her right cheek and pulls her into a hug. He lingers and she tries not to make it too obvious that she loves the way his muscles feel against her body, the thin fabric of their clothes not enough of a barrier. 

He’s already tipsy, by the way he sways as he turns her around to introduce her to his new friends. 

“Guys, this is Dany, my uh— _friend_ ,” he pauses, turning to her. Dany is not sure what that half smile meant. It’s not as if it’s the first time he introduces her to people in his life as something else than _his aunt_. Perhaps it’s her fault, since when he first arrived in Pentos she never introduced him as her nephew. In her defence, she never did because presenting him as such would definitely open questions about her past that she did not want to answer. She’s left her old life behind her years ago. So she smiles and pecks them on their cheeks. 

Jon’s new coworkers are fun; she enjoys their company more than she thought she would. The drinks flow freely, and it doesn’t escape her that Jon is definitely drinking more than usual. Eventually, she finally drags Jon to the dance floor. It’s not the first time they dance, yet Dany can’t get over how good it just feels to be like _this_ with him. From this close, she can see his blown out pupils flicker in the strobe lights. He pulls her into him, her back to his chest, swaying their bodies in the rhythm of what is to be this summer’s hit song. His beard tickles her exposed shoulder; her mind conjures dangerous images of Jon fucking her against a wall until her knees give out and she collapses on the floor. 

Suddenly he pulls away. She doesn’t have time to ask what’s wrong; she just sees him heading where she knows the restrooms are. She feels rather silly to be dancing by herself, so she heads to the bar for a drink. Eventually, Jon comes back, looking a bit rough. 

He asks the bartender for another drink. 

“Sorry I—” he starts. 

“It’s cool,” she replies, having to speak louder to make sure he heard her. 

Neither says anything for a while; it gets awkward, to the point Dany is wondering whether she did something to get this reaction out of him. She’s about to dive head first and finally ask him, when a blonde girl appears out of seemingly nowhere. She leans in and says something to Jon’s ear. He smirks and shakes his head; it must have meant good news for the girl, for she licks her lips and pulls him by his hand. 

Dany thinks she heard Jon say “Be right back,” before he let himself be pulled to the dance floor again. The girl wastes no time and puts on him her best dance moves. Her stomach turns as she sees Jon really enjoying himself, grabbing her by her hips as she grinds against his groin. Dany downs her entire glass of champagne and asks for a gin & tonic next. 

The more she tries to look away, the more her eyes are pulled to the dance floor. The worst is not even seeing him with someone else; no—the worst is the way he keeps looking at _her_ , as if he wants her to watch him with someone else. Like a fool, she keeps looking. The blonde turns around in Jon’s arms and starts kissing him. He seems unfazed by her, so much so that with every kiss he returns, his eyes are still trained on Dany. She wants to yank out her choker; it feels like she’s gonna suffocate. The girl starts kissing the column of his neck upwards, until she reaches his ear. She must be asking him something again, because he nods. 

Frustrated, Dany turns to the bar to ask for another drink. The bartender barely has time to put it in front of her; she takes the straw out and she simply chugs down the entire glass. 

She feels Jon behind her before he even voices his question, “Are you ok.” His breath tickles the skin under her ear. She shrugs it off.

“I’m _fine_ ,” she croaks, grateful for the way the loud music masks just how difficult it is for her to even say those words in that moment. She still doesn’t look at him as she signals for another refill. 

The girl comes back again, not even acknowledging Dany and going straight to Jon, shoving her tongue down his throat. For once, Dany finds it in herself to look away. 

Jon touches her shoulder. “Hey, Dany, you ok to go home by yourself,” he asks. 

“Just go, Jon,” she says, not even looking at him.

He squeezes her shoulder to turn around. “I said I’m fine, go,” this time she looks at him. 

For a second, he seems to hesitate. He almost says something, until the blonde grabs his dick through his trousers. “Fine, just—text me when you get home.”

With that he leaves her by herself. 

She has her phone out and is about to call a car when a guy hits on her. She can’t even be bothered to tell him she didn’t even hear half of his cheesy pick up line. Instead, she tells him to dance with her. Just this once, she can’t be bothered to care that the guy is too handsy; she can feel his erection as he grinds against her bottom. 

“It’s just sexual tension,” she tells herself again and again. 

Hopefully, any type of release will do. Dany pulls the guy with her through the crowd and pushes him inside the women’s restroom. She locks the door and makes him sit on the waiting bench. 

“Pants off,” she simply orders. She doesn’t even care enough for a name. This is just a quick fuck. The guy’s shock seems to dissipate as he finally starts unbuckling his pants and pulling his cock out. Dany fumbles with the contents of her bag until she finds the condom she knew she had stashed away. 

She throws it to the guy, “Put this on.”

He obeys and immediately rolls the condom onto his hard cock. 

“Just make me forget,” she says as she pulls up her dress and straddles his hips. 

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

This time she is the one to avoid Jon. She leaves quite a few of his messages on read before she starts feeling guilty and replies, trying to overcompensate for her lack of contact. 

Truth is her quick fuck didn’t do much to make her forget about her Jon situation. Even in the high of her orgasms she could only think of him.

What’s worse, she felt guilty afterwards. She wondered whether Jon felt guilty after each girl that he paraded in front of her during all the months he lived in her flat. Just because Jon did not cheat on Ygritte with Dany, didn’t mean he didn’t cheat on her at all. Yet, despite their closeness, Jon’s hookups were not something they spoke about.

She wonders how much longer of this she has to endure. Was she in love with him? Or was it simply the desire for the forbidden fruit? She didn’t like what any of those options said about her. 

When Jon asks her to go out with him again, she can’t refuse. 

The entire night, it’s like she’s seeing a movie replaying in front of her eyes: he has his fun with her, then some random girl appears and off he goes, into the night, to fuck her, all while she sits there and does nothing. Except this time she can’t take it anymore; this time she refuses to play whatever cruel game he’s playing with her. When inevitably Jon gets distracted by some hot girl, she finally snaps out of it and leaves. She practically runs out of the club as she taps the app on her phone asking for a car. 

As she closes the car’s door, she sees Jon coming outside of the joint. She refuses to look back, she just knows she can’t go on like this anymore. 

Dany silently cries all the way home. The desperate sobs come later, once she is safely tucked away in her flat, hugging herself on the living room floor. In between sobs she hears Jon calling her name from outside. “Dany, please, open up.”

It should not come as a surprise that he is here. Yet she can’t make herself confront him—nothing good will come out of it, she knows it. 

“I’m not leaving,” Jon yells. 

She doesn’t know how long it takes her to finally calm down, but here she is again, unable to refuse him anything. She buzzes him in and unlocks the door. Dany turns away, standing on the threshold of the balcony. The breeze feels like the soft embrace that she has been craving for months now.

“Dany—” it’s all that he seems to be able to say.

“I’m fine, Jon,” she lies yet again. 

“No, you’re not. Tell me.”

“Why,” she laughs bitterly.

“I—”

She finally turns to him. He looks serious, not the messy tipsy guy she left back at the club. 

“Do we have to go through this charade every single time?”

“Go through what?”

“This—” she motions in between them “—or rather what was about to happen back there. You using me until some new girl comes along, then disappearing to fuck her brains out.” She hates that her voice sounds weak. It makes her come off more desperate than she feels. 

“Like you’re not doing the same,” he finally moves away from the door and plops down onto the couch. 

“Really? How many dudes did you see me grind on in front of you?”

Jon groans. “You’re my _aunt_.”

“Am I, Jon? Because that’s _not_ how you introduce me to everyone else.” 

“Like you ever told anyone else that I’m your nephew,” he spats. 

She is livid now. “Why don’t you then?”

“What does this have to do with who I’m fucking?” 

“You don’t really want to know, Jon, trust me,” she turns away, her hands shaking. 

Suddenly he’s behind her, turning her to look at him, “Try me,” he says through gritted teeth.

“No.”

For moments, he stares at her, his hands on her arms. She can see his own frustration bubbling up. “You should not care who I fuck.”

She looks away, his word cutting her to the bone. “You’re right.”

“Nor should I; still, I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else but _me_.”

“Don’t say things you can’t take back, Jon.” Dany breaks away from his hold, stepping out on the balcony.

Neither speak for a moment; behind her, she can hear Jon pacing.

Finally, he speaks up, “I remember, Dany. And I know you remember it too.”

He might as well have stabbed her through her heart—it changes nothing and everything at the same time. The illusion shatters, leaving cuts all over her body and him unscathed.

“Somehow I already knew that.” Dany turns to him, tears in her eyes. “Want to hear something worse than both of us remembering and denying it?” She blinks away most of her tears, “I’ve been in love with you ever since,” her voice cracks on the last word.

Perhaps she expected some sort of rejection; maybe not something as dramatic as Jon storming out and never coming back again, and with him losing her last remaining connection with her family.

Instead, Jon breathes out in relief, “Thank Gods.”

Suddenly, he closes the distance between them and captures her lips in a bruising kiss. The tears break free from her eyes as she kisses him back harder, just like she did the first time. He pushes her against the rail of the balcony, his hands touching her everywhere: her neck, her arms, her butt. When they have to stop for air, he takes her face into her hands and wipes her tears away with his thumbs.

He grins, “I love you, Dany. I think I’ve loved you since the day you agreed to meet me when I came to Pentos. I knew it wasn’t the type of love I should be feeling, yet I did it anyway.”

He pulls her up by her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist. He carries her to the living room, perhaps too impatient to make the trip down the hallway to either his or her bedroom. Jon gently lays her on the couch. Somehow the impatience is gone now, his touch is almost reverent; he takes his time to kiss her, licking and biting every inch of exposed skin that he can find. She fumbles with his shirt, pulling until she rids him of it. His lips momentarily leave her body so he can take his pants off. Afterwards, he pulls her short bodycon dress over her head. Jon dives back down, catching one of her already hard nipples in between his lips. He sucks on one and then the other, trailing a path of open mouth kisses downwards, until he reaches his intended destination.

At first, she can’t look at him going down on her; she has dreamed of this moment more than once, waking up with her panties soaked. Most of the times it happened, she fingered herself until she came hard with his name on her lips. But none of that could prepare her for the moment he finally licked her cunt.

“Gods, Dany, look at me,” he begs in between licks.

She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly shy about it; perhaps because there’s something about Jon specifically eating her out that’s making her suddenly feel self-conscious.

But Jon calms her nerves with a simple touch of his hand; he interlaces their fingers together as he keeps staring at her and eating her out. Her orgasm comes suddenly and leaves her heaving and wanting more. Jon wipes his beard with the back of his hand, licking off the excess of her juices.

“I’ve dreamed of doing that too many times than I can admit…my dreams don’t even come close to the real you,” he pants before he kisses her on the lips.

Dany can taste herself on his lips; it’s not the first time someone has done so, yet somehow everything feels like a first with Jon. He pulls away, reaching for his pants on the floor. He pulls out a condom from his wallet, but then pauses.

In the early morning, the sun has slowly started to rise, the pinkish light slowly invading the room. The look on Jon’s face is enough to pull her back to reality. She rises up, her face at level with his.

“I’m terrified too. I don’t think there is a future for us…”

Panting, he seems to be searching for the right words; for a fleeting moment Dany wonders whether this is when he realises she is not worth it and walks out of her life forever.

“I say we live in the present for now,” he replies, and with that he kisses her harder than before.

The tears are back again; he kisses them away and hugs her tight to his chest. If the present is the only time they have, then she will take everything she can. Eventually, Jon stops so he can put on the condom. Dany always hated those clichés in movies, when characters boastly declared that they’re each other’s half; but as Jon enters her again and again, kissing her and whispering sweet nothings as he settles a good rhythm for them, all she can think is how _full_ she feels. Maybe the Gods did fashion them for each other; maybe this was also bound to happen, one way or another. Just… _maybe_.

Later, they lay in each other’s arms on the couch, as they have many times before, with one major difference: they’re naked, their soul bared, all cards on deck, no more games to play.

“You haven’t said anything,” he says. To her ears, he almost sounds shy. “Do you regret it,” he asks, not giving her a chance to make the stupid joke she was about to make.

She lifts on her elbow, turning to him. “I will never regret this, ok? No matter what happens.”

Instead of a reply, he kisses her. Moments pass before he speaks again. The sun is now up; downstairs, she can hear life resuming on her street. “And before you ask me—no, I don’t regret it either.”

She knows it’s just wishful thinking, but she says it anyway, “We don’t have to stop, no one knows what to are to each other, we can just be Jon and Dany, Targaryen or something else. No one here knows we’re even related…”

“Dany—”

“Oh no, Ygritte. If she ever finds out we might be together, she’ll definitely tell people. I—what was I thinking,” she starts hyperventilating.

“Dany, listen to me—”

“You…you don’t understand, Jon, there is no controlling it. Once people find out it will take on a life of its own and we will never be able to escape it,” she sits up. She’s suffocating, she needs air.

Jon is by her side in an instant, gently rubbing her back, “Breathe with me ok, in…and out. In…”

When she’s calmed down some, Jon says, “Ygritte knows nothing.”

“How, I thought you—”

“I could never tell her.”

“But back at the Heartbreaker you said that she knew.”

“I couldn’t bear the look on your face,” he smiles. “I only ever told her that we were childhood friends. More like our families were. The rest was history. Not that it ever deterred her from accusing me of sneaking around with you behind her back.”

“Buy why didn’t you tell her?”

“I just—” Jon takes her hand in his, kisses it softly. “Every time we fought and I thought I could just come out and say that she has nothing to be afraid, not that I would fuck my own aunt, all I could see was you kissing me back that night, just as fiercely as I had.”

“So no one knows?”

“No one knows,” he smiles.

They make love once more before their stomachs start to growl. As always, Jon gets dressed and goes to buy them lemon cakes. He barely makes it outside when she hears him call for her.

Dany wraps herself in the throw blanket from the couch and steps out on the balcony.

Down below, Jon is smiling at her. She’s about to reply when from the flat below, a balloon filled with water is thrown; it hits Jon right in his chest, breaking at the impact and soaking his shirt.

“Well, I guess this was my shower,” he chuckles, wringing out the hem of his shirt.

“Just don’t wet our breakfast!”

“I love you, Dany,” he yells at the top of his lungs and makes a run for it before the crazy old lady throws more balloons at him.

“Love you more, Jon,” she yells back, feeling weirdly optimistic about their future. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Now everyone go wish muttpeeta/atetheredmind a happy birthday! 
> 
> Title is from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift, which I'm obsessed with. Do yourself a favour and listen to it now ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Your support means everything to me! 
> 
> Until next time,  
> Alice


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